Wanderer
by Almandine-Azaleea
Summary: Kikyo has never had a home.


Disclaimer: I am a word nymph and as such I do not dabble in mortal battles over copyright since I do not claim to own this realm, or make any monetary profit from publication. I am the weaver of words, my possessions are my ideas not the twine I use. The one who owns this magic realm of Inuyasha, and the characters who dwell in it, is she who calls herself Takahashi Rumiko.

* * *

Wanderer

* * *

She recalls dimly a time of lullabies and laughter. 

Love, comfort, safety swirl about her like mist; she is swathed in an emotion she cannot fully describe - an emotion at which she claws desperately when it begins to dissipate.

She has no home – it faded along with the last note of the lullaby.

* * *

She wanders.

* * *

Inside her village, on the outskirts, people call to her: to heal them, to purify them, to save them. 

She does so with a wistful smile – always protecting others' homes. She has no home to protect.

At night Kaede's peaceful snoring echoes pieces of a long forgotten cradle-song; it soothes her heart.

Kaede is all she has left from that time when she still had a home.

Her younger sister loves her, she knows that, but her taciturn acceptance of everything is too much! Kikyo wants to rebel!

She is frustrated that her sister denies her the ability of at least proximity to freedom through her taciturn acceptance of everything.

Bitterly she thinks Kaede would have made the better priestess; she enjoys rules, traditions.

Kaede was a priestess from her cradle: naturally reserved, easily accepting, always weary of everything - all the things she had been forced to re-enact and become.

She wants to cast away the forsaken taboos that come with being a priestess; to shed the saintly exterior; to laugh and cry openly – to be a woman. No. To be a woman in love.

The Jewel glimmering secretly in the night hears her unspoken prayer and, with a malicious smile, grants it.

* * *

She is in love, indeed, for the first time in her lonely life she has someone with whom she doesn't have to pretend (but she does so anyway – her mask too tightly wrapped to simply discard). 

For the first time she doesn't wonder if the images of warmth she sees every single night in her dreams are real. She knows them to be so.

Ah, but the Jewel cannot be appeased – it wants repayment for a job well done and before long it has it.

Kikyo's dreams of a home are so close she can nearly touch them; can feel the sun come through neatly fitted shoji screens, the smooth grip of tatami mats on weary soles and a man with dark hair and deep blue eyes opening his arms to welcome her home.

She reaches out to him and the jewel snaps viciously.

She spirals down to her death on breezes of blood and betrayal.

She weeps.

* * *

Hell is her dwelling. 

Her heart still swells with indignation at the memory of her betrayal and, when it becomes too exhausted to keep up the façade, it shatters into tiny little pieces.

She has no home. She is destined never to have it. Alone, she roams – her soul, restless.

A strong pull on her tired, aching heart and she is again face to face with the one who broke it.

It twangs painfully against her mockery of a rib-cage and demands his life as repayment for her pain.

She complies but is stopped by another – one who looks like her, who fights like she used to.

Not like her, she decides, the wench knows not what heartache is.

* * *

Defeated, she wanders from place to place; she with no heart, she with no home. 

When at last she finds a village she knows she will not be able to stay long.

Not for the first time she wonders if it is her fate never to have a home again.

She finds the answer too painful to bear but she accepts her reality meekly.

* * *

Her heart continues to burn as she roams through valleys and meadows. 

On her journey she re-learns herself, reacquaints herself to her own person and, in the process, teaches her other self the sting of perfidy.

She wanders.

* * *

Truth shines out eventually and she finds she has betrayed herself. 

With a tired sigh she ponders whether she is truly cursed.

It is not until she has the small girl's fearful gaze on her that she understand exactly what she has done, what she has _become_; so she goes.

Alone she wanders, she wonders, she wanders – time holds no interest, debts have no heed; she just _wants_ and the dream is further than ever.

* * *

Once again she is in battle, but this time she knows she is finished with this world. 

Suspiring, she accepts the girl's purifying arrow. Next thing she knows strong arms open to her to hold her tight.

She feels warm for the first time in too long.

The man's hair is silver, not black, and his eyes, golden and warm – a far-cry from the envisioned blue – but she smiles.

His tears fall on her face as he softly speaks words of love to her.

The heart she thought lost trembles wildly; and then he is kissing her like there is no tomorrow, like she has never hurt him, like they have never been apart.

His love washes over her and she knows – she _knows_ – she is finally home.

"You came. That is enough."

Her body shatters into shards of light.

She is content.


End file.
